Doctor Who: Descent Into Madness, Part II
by jjhatter
Summary: Sequel/continuation from Part I; a collaborative effort between myself and VanSkittles. Better summary inside...PLEASE R&R!
1. Chapter 1

_VS: Welcome, once again, to the Great and Powerful Van Skittles' presentation of Doctor Who: Descent Into Madness. J. has allowed the Great and Powerful Van Skittles to introduce this second part, just so long as I don't mention the names of anypony from that show that shall not be named (HINT: It rhymes with Py Mittle Lony). _

_J: Did you just say 'anypony?'_

_VS: Maybe._

_J: OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!_

_VS: That's not until – _

_J: SILENCE! YE SHALL NOT RUIN THE CLIFFHANGER, YOU SCURVY KNAVE!_

_VS: (Sniffles) Very well..._

_J: Sigh...why must you try to in the first place? _

_VS: Any Whovian would not be surprised! I mean, how often have the Doctors and their companions been put in the most impossible scenario only for it to be resolved in the first two minutes of the next part/episode? _

_J: About as many times as people confuse the Queen of Hearts for the Red Queen! They are NOT the same character, Carroll himself even wrote an essay explaining that they are not the same character!_

_VS: Keep calm, and flutter on, J.J.! Oh, and __mustard._

_J: What was that?_

_VS: A reference to a certain episode which features John de Lancie returning to the role of the devilish Discord._

_J: No, that other thing. What did you say?_

_VS: Mustard._

_J: GAH! (grabs an axe...)_

_(Static...)_

**WE'RE SORRY; THE GREAT AND POWERFUL VAN SKITTLES SEEMS TO BE HAVING SOME TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES ON ACCOUNT OF BEING ASSAULTED BY SPITE FILLED MUSTARD PACKETS. PLEASE ENJOY THIS PRESENTATION OF PART TWO OF DESCENT INTO MADNESS:**

Rating: T (And we hope to keep it that way...but, seeing as we are both sick in the head, it MAY be raised...)

Disclaimer: _Doctor Who_ does not belong to us; it belongs to the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). This take on Wonderland, however, is OURS. (Since Carroll's works are in the public domain, we CAN claim this...however, the original stories, obviously, belong to Lewis Carroll himself. _En pace requiescat...)_

Summary: _**We have already seen...**_

_**A crash landing... (Part I, Chapter I)**_

_**Ace, lost in a wicked Wonderland... (Part I, Chapter II)**_

_**A White Rabbit & Royal Hearts... (Part I, Chapter III)**_

_**Skee & Skum: Siamese Sontarans... (Part I, Chapter IV)**_

_**A Mad Tea Party running low on party favors... (Part I, Chapter V)**_

_**A Mock Turtle-Killitrane... (Part I, Chapter VI)**_

_**The Card Guards: the Queen of Hearts' Deadly Deckers... (Part I, Chapter VII)**_

_**And, speaking of Cards, does an Ace equal Cheshire Cat Food...? (Part I, Chapter VIII)**_

_**Not if the Doctor has anything to say about it! (Part I, also Chapter VIII)**_

_**The Knave dealt underhandedly... (Part I, Chapter IX)**_

_**And the Doctor, Cheshire, and Ace were surrounded by Rrraston...er, I mean, Raston Sentries! (Part I, Chapter X)**_

_**Will our heroes all be reduced by a head?! Wait! The Worst is Yet to Come...**_

**Chapter I: Where Were We...?**

_Now, we pray._

Ace stood ready with her baseball bat held up high. Her eyes darted about, keeping her gaze on the Raston Card Guards. The robots twitched as their loose wires sparked and fizzed. They held their long, ivory-white blades ready. Ace could see her reflection in the blades, knowing these robots were ready to slice each of them in half. Maybe these strange figures would succeed, but if Ace had her way, it wouldn't be without a fight.

The Doctor stood beside her, with his Panama hat tipped down slightly over his eyes. He held out his umbrella like a fencer's rapier. Like Ace, he was trying to keep his eyes on all the Rastons at once.

The Cheshire Cat, on the other hand, seemed very calm. Ace could have sworn she actually saw him, out of the corner of her eye, WAVE to the sentries.

The Rastons all crouched low, as if to pounce.

Was this the end?

Then, they vanished. All the Raston Sentries were gone without a trace.

For a few moments there was silence, as all three remained standing as they were.

"...I think they're quite gone, Doctor," Cheshire whispered, still smiling.

The Doctor let out a short, huffing breath, and stood normally...well, more normally. He leaned slightly on his umbrella, tipping his hat up on his brow with one long finger.

"Strange," he murmured. "How very unlike a Dead Man's Hand..."

"Professor," Ace said, slowly, carefully replacing her bat, "Is it safe now?"

"I think it is...but it shouldn't be."

"Where have they gone?"

"Away, obviously."

Ace smirked.

"Scared them off then, did we?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes.

"Very funny, Ace."

"Thank you."

"The Rrrastons are one of the most deadly rrrobotic weapons forged in history, programmed to kill before even the most quick-witted man could pull a trigger, let alone blink. If they surrounded us—which they did—and wanted us dead, we'd be dead. Simple as that."

"Well, then, why aren't we?" Cheshire thought to ask.

"That's a very good question, Grand Chz'zhur, but I fear I don't have an answer just yet."

"Well, where can we find answers?" Ace asked.

"Not here. I think it would be best if we continued on to Card Castle; perhaps the Queen of Hearts can tell us why her own soldiers chose to threaten us, and then simply flee."

The Doctor and Ace each began to walk off...then noticed the Katoseussian had stayed behind, and was seemingly scanning the trees, yellow eyes narrowed.

"Cheshire, are you coming?" called the Doctor.

The cat-man chuckled and shook his head.

"Sorry, Time, but I think I'd best be on my way. A cat has to eat, you know...I'll catch you later."

He grinned at Ace.

"Perhaps literally."

The cat-man then laughed aloud as the girl glared at him. If looks could kill, as the expression goes.

"Goodbye, Doctor," he said, waving in farewell.

"Yes, goodbye," the Doctor replied, somehow managing to shrug and nod at the same time as he began to turn back.

"Oh, and Doctor?"

"Yes, Cheshire?"

"Beware the Jabberwock."

Without another word, Cheshire suddenly fell down onto all fours. His gloves and suit vanished, turning into a fine velvet fur. His moustache became large savage whiskers.

The purple tiger roared and bounded off, back into the dark woods.

The Doctor shook his head, smiling slightly.

"Such a ham," he muttered.

"Professor..."

"Yes, Ace?"

"Did he say 'Jabberwock'?"

"I believe so, yes."

"As in, 'the jaws that bite, the claws that catch'?"

"Well, it's good to know you do read from time to time."

"Well, is it?"

"Yes...no...yes...no...it's a little hard to explain right now, actually. Come along," the Doctor said quickly, and began to walk again.

Ace sighed.

"Guess I better get used to not getting an answer around here..."

"Ace!"

"I'm coming, Professor!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter II: Cannibal Kitchen**

People who didn't know their own minds were the Grand Chz'zhr's favorites.

They were the easiest to catch, the easiest to defeat, and the easiest to fool.

The Duchess Daemore of the Fromagian Grig, and her Cook, Grimwag of the Fromagian Grig, were such individuals.

As the Cheshire Cat reformed into his natural, humanoid state, he smoothed back his hair, and knocked on the door.

"Who goes there," came a high, thin, almost exaggeratedly, feminine voice.

"Meow," Cheshire said, dryly, smirking to himself.

The door opened.

A tall, disheveled figure stood at the door, dressed in a chef's outfit. He was covered in grease, spilled spices, and spatters of long-dried blood. The figure resembled a man, with dark eyes, arched over by bushy red eyebrows that matched his wild red hair. The man was unnaturally ugly by human standards, his face patched with grey-green wart-like protrusions. His teeth were chipped and filthy, with bits of "somethings," some years old, still stuck between them. He reeked of pepper, as he stood there, holding both a cleaver and a pepper grinder in his free hand.

"It's that cat again, ma'am," he growled in a gravelly voice. "Shall I cut his tail legs off?"

"Oh!" came the higher voice from behind him. "No, Grimwag. Let him in; the darling kitty's quite welcome today."

Grimwag snorted, and moved aside.

"Well, you little stray, come on in."

"Thank you," said Cheshire. Moreover, he was thankful that the Duchess and her Cook believed him to be an Earthling kitten, and not a Katoseussian, an obvious symptom of whatever psychosis they had.

The Duchess lived in a much humbler place than one would expect. She could be found in an aged hut, black within and without. All the furniture was the same with respect to this dreary color scheme—black tables and chairs and curtains and ornaments—which caused the garish pink of her dress and the off-white of her Cook's garb to stand out all the more. She was of the same lean figure as her cook, though not scrawny by any means, with a voluptuous edge to her, ahem, midsection. But any sense of beauty was betrayed, for her face was marred by warts not unlike Grimwag's. Her red eyebrows held same thickness, and her teeth, though cleaner, bore a distinctive overbite. Her eyes were just as dark as her associate, and her nails were long and black/ Her chin was sharp and her nose was short and snout-like.

The hag had never looked better, Cheshire mused.

"How are you today, pretty kitty?" cooed the Duchess, as she sat on a stool, knitting. She had been knitting for years, but had never come up with any finished products. The only testament to her endeavors was a long trail of woolen cloth that littered the floor.

"Very well, ma'am," purred Cheshire, and resisted the urge to cringe as the ogress pinched his cheek in a motherly manner.

"Good kitty," she crooned. "Poor dear...you only come by when you're starving. Why the long face?"

The cat's grin was never wider.

"Well, I'll confess my little...er, constitutional didn't go as planned, but now I have time to visit you, madam. May I sit?"

"Of course, you darling cat!"

Then she whipped her head around.

"Grimwag! How is that soup coming on?"

"A bit more pepper, ma'am!" the Cook responded, grinding some in at a furious pace.

"Still on a pepper fix, m'lady?" purred Cheshire.

"Everything's better with pepper, my dove," she said simply, and focused back on her knitting, sighing. "Though I am growing quite bored: I've had just about all this Madhouse World has to offer! Grimwag and I have tried Segonaxian, Thals, Katurian, Ogri—makes for a lovely stone soup if you're ever in the mood for that—and even chocolate dipped Zarbi legs, but nothing seems to slake us!"

"What's that, ma'am?" asked Grimwag, pausing for a moment.

"I said nothing seems to slake us, Grimwag."

"Steak! Sorry, ma'am, no steak...beef or otherwise."

The Duchess sighed again.

"Oh, well; we move on."

The Cook, meanwhile, tried a sip of his soup, and his face wrinkled at the taste.

"Ugh! Not enough gristle!"

He flung the pot, still filled with unfinished stew, straight out the window. The hideous figure then rummaged through the sink for a new one.

The Cheshire Cat rolled his eyes.

"I wonder if you've had human," he mumbled to himself.

The Duchess froze.

"Beg pardon, kitty?"

"Human."

"Ramen!" Grimwag exclaimed, as he brought the pot, filled with water, to the stove. "What a lovely idea for a light snack!"

He ran to the cupboard, and fished a box of old noodles out, and dumped it into the pot.

"What about humans?" the Duchess said to Cheshire.

"Well, madam, while I was out hunting, I happened to run into a particularly appetizing young girl. She was a human. Light brown hair, blue eyes...so tender...so ripe..."

"Interesting," the Duchess murmered, looking away. "You know, I don't think I've had human since before we got here!"

"That's true ma'am," the Cook called to her. "That's HOW we got here."

He sipped the soup.

"Hmph. Too much salt," he grumbled. "But not enough...pepper!"

And the grinding began again.

"That's true," the Duchess said. She continued to knit as she spoke. "Did I ever tell you how my Cook and I came to be here, kitty, darling?"

"Oh, more than a hundred times, madam..."

"What, what?" she snapped, glaring harshly.

"But I always like a good story, madam."

The Duchess frowned, and then focused her attention on her work.

"Well, Grimwag and I once posed as nobles on a little backwater planet called Earth. In our continuing pursuit of pleasure, we immediately decided to partake in the local cuisine: rabbits, mice, fish, frogs, dogs, turtles, turkeys, dodos, a few caterpillars here and there..."

"Not to mention some unfortunate kangaroos, if I recall correctly."

"Yes, well-"

THACK! THACK! THACK!

"Grimwag!" the Duchess snapped. "Could you be a little quieter when chopping that sausage?!"

"Sorry, ma'am," the Cook said, and went back to his work. Grimwag went on just as loudly, but either the Duchess didn't notice, or didn't care enough to notice again.

"Anyway," she said to Cheshire, "We finally decided to try human meat. Sadly, we were caught by their less-inept-than-we-thought militia. However, we were smart; we knew how human law worked, and used our 'eccentric,' as they called it, noble garbs and appetites as proof of insanity! Can you believe it?! They thought we were a pair of nuts...!"

"Nuts! Brilliant!" laughed the Cook, and sprinkled a few chestnuts into the soup, before flinging the empty can out the window.

"Well, we obviously weren't, but it worked. Then the strangest thing happened; a strange sort of wispy-cone-thing enveloped Grimwag and I, and suddenly we were brought to some place called Gallifrey, if I recall correctly, where they tried us a second time. Ultimately they sent us here."

"Fascinating," Cheshire drawled, inattentively. He had been scratching an image of a clock onto the table-top with his claws all the while, and only now chose to look up, replacing his gloves. "Now, as much as I love your stories, Your Grace, may I inquire as to what's for dinner?"

"My cook's newest recipe: a new kind of stew!"

"Prime ingredient?"

At that moment, the Cook, who had left the room, returned. He was holding a small, sleeping piglet in his arms. He rocked it gently, cradling the babe ever so softly.

"As with any dish, it needs tender love and care," he said in a low whisper. His gaze was fixed on the piglet. All the while his mouth began to water profusely.

Cheshire smirked as the creature nestled itself into Grimwag's arms, with a short, satisfied sounding grunt...

Then, without a second thought, or word of warning, Grimwag dropped the pig into a large stock pot. He promptly placed a lid on it, muffling its squeals of horror and agony. The Cook then casually turned, wiping his hands on his apron, and asked of his company, "Who's up for pork?"

Cheshire smiled a bit wider, and nodded.

"Delicious," he whispered.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter III: Bloody Knaves...**

The King of Hearts leaned over, inspecting a patch of daisies that were growing by his feet. With a giddy smile, he sniffed the sweet flowers.

"Hmm...we would like a few of these back home...there's enough red flowers there already, some white might make a nice change..."

The King reached out with a gloved hand and gently plucked a daisy out of the ground.

He yelped and dropped the flower as a high-pitched scream of utter pain pierced through his ear.

The daisy turned toward him, as if to spite him. It then ran—using its roots like legs—and buried itself back into the ground.

"Ruffian!" it squeaked, before the dirt beneath the King fell silent.

The King blinked, and then snorted to himself.

"How very rude..."

Just then, he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"My congratulations on your success at finding Time," the Knave of Hearts' voice said. The diminutive soldier was apparently talking to the Card Guards. "Now, here are the new orders I called you back for..."

There was a pause.

"Await for further command upon arriving at the coordinates given. This order CANNOT be countermanded. Not even by the Queen, herself. All orders from the Queen of Hearts are to be considered null and void from this moment on!"

The King blanched, but pretended to stay focused on the flowers, never turning towards the Knave.

"Are your orders understood?"

Another short pause.

"Good. Go."

After another moment, the Knave's footsteps were heard behind the King. His majesty stood up, trying to act as if he had just now noticed this impish figure.

"Ah, Knave," the King said, clearing his throat. "Have the Cards returned to bring Time to us?"

"They have located him," said the Knave in a very flat voice. He then added, "Now, come, Your Majesty; it is time we returned to Card Castle."

"Yes, yes, of course," the King agreed, perhaps a little too hastily than he liked—or noticed, for that matter—and followed the Knave as they began to walk back in the direction from whence they came. "Knave, if the Cards have located Time, then where is he?"

"He evaded their grasp."

"Ah, yes. Slippery devil," the King said with a nod.

There was silence for a short moment.

"Knave?"

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"All that talk earlier...about our beloved being 'weakened...'"

The Knave stopped.

"What of it, sire?"

"The thought dawns on us that our dear one has been more...needy, to say the least, as of late. Not that she wasn't before, but, every few minutes for the last few months...or maybe years, who knows...it's been nothing but, 'Where's Time? Where's my tea? Has the Time of the Jabberwocky arrived yet? Where's the Looking-Glass? Where's our daughters?' Never a peaceful moment...do you think there's something 'up,' as it were in the common tongue?"

"I can't say...but I CAN tell Your Majesty one thing..."

"What is that, foolish Knave?"

"Within the day...perhaps even sooner...all that will change."

The King gaped.

"You can't be serious, Knave!"

The Knave smirked.

"Your Majesty, you will find that I am always_ quite_ serious."

The King frowned, eyeing the Knave uncomfortably.

Just then, the Knave turned, on alert, his hand on his short sword.

"Your Majesty?"

"What? What is it?"

"I would advise you to run to Card Castle as fast as you can."

"Why?"

A low, howling noise filled the forest, and echoed everywhere. A shuffling and rustling came from the brush, growing closer...

The Knave drew his sword, and the King shivered.

"Because, Your Majesty, I believe a Bandersnatch is upon us. I'll take care of him, now RUN!"

The King wasted no time, and took to his heels, screaming all the way.

The Knave waited till he was out of earshot, then, with a scoff, sheathed his blade.

"Numbskull," he muttered.

"An excellent ploy, Knave of Hearts," came a voice from the shadows.

"Thank you."

"We are alone now, yes?"

"Naturally."

"Perfect. You can never be too careful in this place where even the trees have ears. Have you done my bidding?"

"Yes; the Queen is almost powerless, a virtual slave to her own mind. She can't even recognize what's happened, and she's unable to change anything or move against us. The only people even vaguely loyal to her now are that idiot husband and one cowardly furball; the latter serves more out of fear, as it is. The damage is done. A new age is ready, without any hindrances."

"Not from the Castle, at any rate. You have done well, Knave."

"My thanks," the Knave said, with a small bow. "And my reward?"

"All in due time."

"Remember our bargain," the Knave said, fingering his blade again, and holding up a hand, revealing a shallow scar on his palm. "We sealed it in blood, and marked the roses of white with it."

"But of course! I swear to you, you'll get exactly what you asked for: you shall be the highest head in all of Wonderland."

The Knave smiled hideously.

"Then the proper preparations are all in order?"

"Indeed. And, when the Time is right..."

The figure trailed off, laughing, and vanished back into the forest.

The Knave nodded, chuckling quietly to himself, and sprinted as fast as his stubby legs could carry him after the King of Hearts.

Elsewhere, another figure, with three glowing red eyes, stared at the misshapen, lumpy rock in its thin hand, turning it slowly, over and over, inspecting it.

"A great storm is approaching. The loathsome boulder will receive the title he so seeks, but as the Jabberwocky approaches even he will be swept by..._their_ madness.

The figure "hmmed," tossing the rock up, and then catching it again.

"They shall meet twice, where sorrow is most plentiful. The first shall be the eye of the hurricane. The second..."

The figure chuckled throatily.

"Alas; even I am uncertain of its outcome. I do foresee a decision, the choice that will end this quarrel. I see a figure ready to plunge into the abyss, and I see two bodies left in cold blood. He shall take his prize. He shall take the Looking Glass. But what of Time, and those who aid his journey?"

The figure paused, and after a moment, blew a smoke ring over the stone in its hand...

It instantly gathered moss.

He dropped it.

"Only time will tell."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter IV: Time and the Rabbit**

The Doctor and Ace walked on a mile or so, until they came to a cliff, and then looked down below. Equally sized, square-shaped patches of land were everywhere; some patches looked red, while others looked more golden in tone; it must have been autumn.

"Blimey!" Ace exclaimed. "I-it's all marked out like a chessboard!"

"Well, of course it's a chessboard! What's life but a game?"

Ace pointed out toward the distance, smiling. A large, crimson castle was easily visible, its towers and spires piercing the sky like daggers.

"Professor, look!"

"Yes, I see it, Ace," the Doctor said, umbrella tucked under one arm. "That would be Card Castle." He then muttered, under his breath, "Out of the frying pan, and into the fire..."

"What's that, Professor?"

"Nothing, nothing," the Doctor muttered, and looked down, crouching on one knee. He pointed with his umbrella. "See the river down there?"

"Yeah..."

"That's the River of Tears. There's a shortcut to Card Castle around there. We'll take that route."

"The River of Tears?"

"Yes."

"As in the tears Alice cried in the books?"

"Not at all."

Ace tilted her head.

"Well...then, why is it called that?"

The Doctor shook his head and started to walk back down the hill—which was set on a plateau—it seemed, thus explaining their current height.

"I'll explain late-"

"Professor!" Ace snapped, pleading, and grabbed his arm.

The Doctor looked at his sleeve where Ace held him, then at her, and sighed.

"Very well...it's not a pretty story."

"Trust me, I'm used to that."

The Doctor bit his lip, then, after a moment, began...

"You see, when this institution was founded, creatures from all corners of the universe were brought here to the Madhouse, as a sort of temporal asylum. However, some patients quickly showed themselves to be beyond any rrrehabilitation.

"The sounds in some regions of the Madhouse are said to be almost deafening, enough to drive anyone even crrrazier than usual, and the rapid waters of the river seem to be the only escape one can ever know. So soothing is this siren, that it is said that some patients plunge to its call where the only tears they shed are those of joy and freedom. It's the only freedom one can know in Wonderland."

Ace shuddered.

"Ugh...I can see why Carroll left THAT out..."

The Doctor nodded gravely, and then continued back down the hill. Ace adjusted her backpack, and followed.

"But, Professor, you still haven't told me how he-"

Just then, something whizzed into view, and slammed into the Doctor, both of them falling to the ground. Ace whipped out her baseball bat.

That "something" squealed and curled into a frightened ball, shaking in fear.

"Ohh...please, don't hit me with that...that...whatever that is!"

Ace blinked, and lowered the bat.

"You...you're the White Rabbit!"

"Indeed he is," the Doctor groaned, standing up, and dusting off his suit and hat. "That's the trouble when you're always in a hurry; you always miss the most important details, in this case, two big ones standing in front of oneself."

"Apologies. My name is Sir William B-Black," the Rabbit stuttered, nodding fast, ears still flat, clearly still afraid. "Royal Page, at your s-s-s-service!"

Ace put away the bat.

"Sorry...so many things have been trying to sink their teeth into us..."

"By which you mean yourself," the Doctor grumbled.

"...I wasn't sure what to expect."

The Rabbit gulped, and nodded again, cautiously rising to his feet, and fastidiously brushing off his own waistcoat, before taking out a handkerchief to clean his monocle.

"O-o-once again, m-m-my apologies for my r-rush. I...I have urgent business at Card Castle..."

The Doctor's eyes glittered. He grinned.

"Do you, now?"

The Rabbit nodded yet again.

"Yes, sir. Now, if you would k-kindly just step aside, so I can continue on my way..."

"Why not just go around us?" Ace asked.

The Rabbit stared at her as if she'd grown an extra nose.

"I wouldn't dare!" he said, shaking his head fast. "One MUST keep things in line around here!"

There was a brief pause, the Doctor eyeing the talking lapin like some far-off star through a troublesome telescope, or else an exploding muffin that had somehow gone into an oven without blowing up.

The Rabbit bit his lip, and straightened his tie. He then took out his watch, anxiously gazing upon it.

"P-please, I have to get going...they'll punish me if I'm late..."

"Royal Duties, I presume?" the Doctor asked calmly. The Doctor leaned on his umbrella, with his free hand in his lower coat pocket.

"Yes, now, please, just-"

"Who's in charge?"

The Rabbit looked at him as if he'd grown TWO extra noses.

"The Queen of Hearts, of course!" he said, then eyed him, skeptically. "I say...are you from around here?"

In an instant, his ears flattened back, and the Rabbit trembled.

"Y-you're not...predators, are you? Please, the Cheshire Cat makes the way to the Castle hard enough for everyone...I-I don't r-really want to be stew, or-"

"We haven't an appetite."

The Rabbit sighed with relief.

"Oh! Oh, thank you, I...I'm sorry, I..."

He checked his watch then, and let out a shrill, "rabbity" scream.

"Goodness gracious me!" he cried out, and turned to the Doctor and Ace again, almost pleading. "Oh, _please, _excuse me! I-I don't know HOW I know I'm late, but I am, and if the Queen-"

"You know, you seem rather tense," the Doctor interrupted, and leaned down, placing a hand on William Black's shoulder. "Why don't you settle down?"

The Rabbit blinked, and, before Ace's eyes, suddenly seemed much less afraid. His arms were still, no longer fidgeting and wringing around as they had been. His ears were back, but not out of fear so much as "neutrality."

"Yes," the Rabbit said softly. "I suppose I have some time to spare...just a little."

"That's right," the Doctor said, smiling gently.

"How did you do that?" Ace whispered.

"A magician never reveals his rabbits," said the Doctor with a wink, and then returned his gaze to the White Rabbit. "Now, how is your day? How's the weather? More importantly, Mr. Black, how are things here in Wonderland?"

"The weather is fine, but the other two are atrocious," the Rabbit said in a slow, quiet voice, eyes never leaving the Doctor's. "The Queen of Hearts controls the population by chopping off heads. Recently, the executions have slowed down..."

"Well, aren't you relieved?"

"No," the Rabbit said calmly. "I was sent here due to a heavy case of nerves. 'Neurosis,' they called it. I can barely risk crossing the stream; I'm terrified the fish may bite me. The Queen has such a terrible temper...and her servants and Sentries don't help the issue. Every second, I'm afraid my head will be sliced, torn, or chewed off by someone, or something, if not Her Majesty herself."

The Doctor nodded thoughtfully.

"Now, what are you going to do?"

"I want to get back to Card Castle," the Rabbit said in a monotonous voice.

"No, you don't," the Doctor said.

"You're right; I don't."

"You hate it there."

"I hate it there," the Rabbit said, with no emotion to his voice.

"You are going to find the Cheshire Cat. Tell him that Time has asked for his assistance at the Castle. He's bound to be hungry, even if he's eaten already, so make sure you tell him right away."

"What if I am eaten, and fail to deliver your message?" the Rabbit said; the question lacked any sense of fear. It was simply a question.

"He'll get indigestion. Better hurry, my bunny friend."

The Doctor snapped his fingers, and the Rabbit blinked rapidly, as if awakening from a dream.

"Oh...Oh, I just remembered: I-I have some important business to attend to before I head to Card Castle. P-pleasure meeting you. Goodbye!"

And, without another word, the Rabbit bounded away.

"Why did you send him after the Cat?" Ace asked, once she thought the Rabbit was out of earshot.

"Because I suspect trouble," said the Doctor. "And Cheshire is nothing but that."

He turned on his heel, and, spinning his umbrella around, continued on his way.

Ace rolled her eyes, and followed him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter V: Heartbreak(down)**

The Queen of Hearts had been waiting for a long time.

She paced before her throne, agitatedly, with hands behind her back. The Queen chewed on her lower lip, smearing the porcelain makeup. Then she sat down, fanning herself with a pink paper fan. When a servant came to give her some food, she had them sentenced to execution on the spot. Seconds later, she pardoned the man, and forced him to bring her a new meal. She fidgeted, mumbled, and drummed her fingers anxiously.

She let out a short gasp as the King of Hearts entered the throne room.

"Ah, there you are!" she cried, and ran forward, embracing her mate, who smiled.

Then, she slapped him across the cheek, making him flinch, more out of surprise than pain.

"Where is the Knave?!" she snapped. "Why have you returned without Time?!"

The King opened his mouth to answer, but the Queen walked away from him, hands clenched, wringing them nervously.

"Oh, where IS Time?" she muttered. "Is he in the woods? Perhaps that icky insect's den..."

"Dear, Time is quite well," the King said. "We and the Knave found him."

"Then why isn't he here?" the Queen asked, sounding more curious than angry. Before the King could answer, she spun around, walking to the other end of the throne room.

"Ohh, I could use a cup of tea...good tea, hot tea..."

"Darling," the King said, moving over, "You already had your tea today..."

"Yes, yes, I remember!" the Queen snapped, waving a hand frustratedly, then turned toward him. "Have you seen the Rabbit?"

"No, dearest. We haven't."

"Ooh, that blasted baby bunny better be quick about getting back from that tax visit to the Lizard, or there'll be Hell to pay! I'll see to it that Daemore will have her coveted rabbit stew..."

She ran to a nearby door, which led to a path, which led to the kitchens of the Castle.

"HURRY UP IN THERE!" she bellowed.

An old woman whose skin was marked with pigeon-like feathers poked her head out and looked down the passage.

"Beggin' Yer Majesty's pardon," she called, "But we'd thought ye'd eaten already!"

"Yes, of course I have," the Queen mumbled. "Never mind" she called out, slamming the door with a bang.

The King raised an eyebrow. His gaze was a blend of concern and intrigue.

"Love?"

"What is it?" the Queen asked, not looking at him, but instead, going over to the nearby window. She stood there, peering out the stained glass painting upon the bright red grounds outside.

"Are you...feeling well?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine...where is Time?"

There was a pause. The Queen turned toward her husband.

"I...I've asked that already, haven't I?" she whispered.

"Yes, love. You asked us."

The Queen sighed.

"Oh, what is wrong with me today?" she mumbled. "I can't keep track of things...I REALLY need my tea...wait, I've already said that, too..."

The King bit his lip.

"Love, you can always call the Knave if you want some. Teatime is any time, you know."

"Yes, yes," the Queen said distractedly, and then screamed at the top of her lungs, "KNAAAVE!"

A door opened, and a footman with fish-like eyes and what seemed to be gills on his neck appeared. His skin was slimy in appearance, and had a hue of a dull gray. He held the Queen's tea things on a platter.

"Where is the Knave?"

The Footman opened his mouth, and the Queen held up a hand to stop him.

"Don't tell me...I've already asked that, right?"

"I don't know, Your Highness. I was actually just about to tell you," the Footman admitted, "that the Knave is currently busy sorting out some Cards, and _I_ was ordered to bring your tea to you instead."

"I...I see," the Queen said softly, and beckoned the Fish Footman over. "Bring it here to me."

The Footman nodded, and approached.

"We really think some tea will calm your nerves," the King said with a smile as he came up beside his wife. "You seem like you need it, our dear."

"Right," the Queen said simply, and took the cup, and sipped it.

She pursed her lips, eyes turning thoughtfully. For a second, a blissful smile painted her face.

"Ahh...this tea is quite..."

Without warning, she flung the cup at the Footman, who ducked, tripped, and tumbled down the short flight of steps that lead to the throne. He stared up in horror at the Queen.

"QUITE UTTERLY DREADFUL!" the Queen shrieked, eyes blazing, teeth gnashing, hands twitching, like she wanted to strangle something. "HOW _DARE_ YOU ALLOW SUCH A FILTHY TASTE TO TOUCH THE ROYAL TONGUE?!"

"B-but, Your Majesty, I...I was only...!"

"SILENCE!" she roared, and jabbed a finger at him, snarling. "OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!"

Then, she turned to the ceiling, as if speaking to the universe.

**"OFF WITH HIS HEAD!" **she repeated, even as the Footman fled in fear. "Off with the Knave's head! The Rabbit's head! Time's head! Snap them, twist them, chop them, I don't care, just _TAKE OFF THEIR HEADS!"_

Then she stopped, still poised staring into the air. Slowly, she lowered her arms, and her gaze, and, almost cautiously, turned to her husband, who had fearfully backed up against the wall behind her during her outburst.

"Dear?" she whispered.

"Y-y-yes, beloved?"

"I...oh, goodness sakes, I..."

She trailed off and her knees quivered. The Queen fell down against the throne, pressing a hand to her head, with the other hand clutching the arm rest for dear life. The King, with a genuine sense of concern, ran over to her, and grabbed her shoulders.

"Our darling, what is wrong?" the King whispered.

"Nothing!" the Queen snapped, then blinked rapidly, and repeated, more quietly, "Nothing...nothing at all..."

The King eyed her, unconvinced.

The Queen sneered, and pulled away, only to collapse in her seat, head back, eyes closed.

"Husband, I must rest," she almost moaned. "Please...please, leave, and summon someone to take us to our bed chambers."

"We could take you there ourselves, love-"

"No. Just...just get someone else, please..."

The King sighed.

"As you wish," he said softly, and, without any of his usual, theatrical flourishes, he turned away and left the room.

He paused for but a moment, as he heard his wife let out a deep, low sob behind him.

He considered going back to her...

_No,_ he thought again. _In such as a state as that one's, tis best we let her be._

Silently, somewhat sullenly, he exited the throne room.

He walked down the hallways, making sure to tell a maid to bring the Queen to her sleeping quarters. The King then headed to the gardens.

The Knave of Hearts was waiting in the shadows of a long untended rosebush, sharpening his blade with a rock. The dwarf glanced up at him briefly, then swiftly turned back to his work.

"Well?" he queried.

The King let out a deep breath.

"We believe she is unwell," he said simply.

"How bad off is she?" the Knave asked.

"...We do not wish to admit it...but, perhaps...perhaps she IS..."

"Unfit to rule? For now, anyway?"

The King hesitated, and then nodded.

The Knave "hmphed" softly, and inspected his short sword.

"The winds of change sweep across the Madhouse," he murmered, then turned toward the King. "Are you ready, sire, to go with the breeze?"

The King glared, suspiciously.

"What are these riddles, miserable Knave?"

The Knave shook his head slowly.

"Not riddles, sire...facts. And you have answered my question with your own."

Without another word, the Knave flung the stone in his hand at the King, smacking him square in the forehead. The King of Hearts let out a short cry of pain and surprise, a hand to his bleeding scalp, feeling the warm liquid flow into one eye.

Then, the Knave stuck out one stubby leg, and tripped him. The King fell face first, and was knocked unconscious.

The Knave snorted, and snapped his fingers. Two Cards appeared on either side of him.

"Deuces, lock him in the dungeon. Let no one see you. We'll decide on his eventual fate later."

The Cards leaned down mechanically, picking up the Kings arms. They then seemed to vanish, taking him with them.

The Knave stood alone in the courtyard maze, smiling darkly to himself.

"And thus a new era is ushered in...the Time of the Jabberwocky will officially commence..."

He chuckled, and began to walk off, swirling his cloak around in a very familiar way.

"All I have to do...is wait a little longer."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter VI: Time for Tea**

The Doctor and Ace had just passed by the River of Tears, and were now walking along the shortcut by the river. Ace had been peculiarly silent all this time since their encounter with the White Rabbit. The Doctor was the same as he walked on with a quick, concentrated gait.

"...Doctor?"

"Hm?"

"I have a question."

"How interesting. Go on."

"The Red Queen..."

"The Queen of Hearts, Ace. The Red Queen is an altogether different sort of menace."

"Whatever...what's her story?"

The Doctor stopped, and sighed shortly. He then turned and pressed down on Ace's shoulder, forcing her to sit down on a rock. He leaned down to her level, but remained standing.

"Queen Kardamyne was the ruler of a race of humanoids called the Drahvins; a strictly matriarchal society, ruled entirely by the female populace..."

"Wicked."

"For you. Anyway, during her time, she possessed the most amazing prowess in military and political stratagem, but she suffered one major defect: she had a mental problem, specifically manic depression, which only grew worse over time. She became obsessed with executions of all kinds, favoring the guillotine and axe. A vote of no confidence was issued by her subjects and court..."

"And she was sent here for being a bipolar whacko."

"In essence, yes," the Doctor replied, and then stood up. Ace did the same.

"So, she's the Queen of Hearts? The one in charge?" Ace inquired as she stood.

"For the moment," the Doctor said, and looked around quickly, eyeing the trees around them suspiciously. "Can't you hear it, Ace?"

Ace tilted her head, listening.

All that entered her ears were the sounds of the river behind them.

"Hear what?" she whispered.

The Doctor's eyes were grim.

"The breath of revolution," he said darkly, and continued to move on.

Ace blinked. With a short, huffing breath, she then followed the Doctor, adjusting her backpack as she trailed behind the mysterious Time Lord.

They had not gone far when they came upon a house. It was made of wood, and painted white with purple and green polka-dots all over it. It was two stories tall, and the roof was thatched with what looked like brown fur, with two simple pipe chimneys that, in Ace's mind, made her think of a rabbit's ears.

The house was surrounded by a wooden, white-washed fence, and between the fence and the house, was a small yard. There was a long table, set with a pale blue tablecloth, in the middle of the yard, under an aging willow.

At closer inspection, the table was covered in mismatched tea things.

The Doctor stopped abruptly, one foot in mid-step, as he noticed the house.

"Blast," he muttered. "I just remembered why I was worried about this shortcut..."

Ace looked at the house, memories of a particular scene in a particular book coming to her head...

"Doctor," she said, "is this place what I think it is?"

"If I'm correct in your thoughts, then, yes, Ace. This is the Mad Tea Party."

Ace smiled in a way the Doctor really didn't think he'd seen before.

"Do you think we could visit?"

The Doctor looked shocked at the thought.

"Ace, are you as mad as everyone here?!"

"Well it's just those lot were always my favorite characters from that daft little book. I used to love it when my mum—"

Ace paused for a moment as the memories of Perivale and her troubled past came to mind. She thought it strange how she still had one tender recollection of her mother.

"—well, I really liked those characters" she said, gesturing toward the house.

The Doctor bit his lip, looking uncertain.

"Well," he said at last, "You know what they say about meeting ones idols. Now come on."

The Doctor waved for her to follow him, straying away from the gate. However, Ace only ran towards the gate, approaching the strange house.

Two figures were seated at the tea table. One was what looked like a man, but with the head of a light brown hair, wearing a brown suit and a straw hat, looking over the rims of his spectacles into a cup of tea that he was stirring as they approached. The other figure was draped in black, Oriental robes, wearing gloves and a veil besides, so that the only things visible of this other figure were a thin, pink tail and a pair of mouse-like ears.

"The March Hare and the Dormouse," Ace said to herself.

The Doctor glanced at her standing by the entry way, and found himself reluctantly following his companion.

"Hello!" she called out, approaching the gate at last.

The Hare's ears twitched and he turned to see them. He smiled, clapping his hands together in glee, dropping his teacup carelessly.

"Aha!" he crowed. "You're here!"

He turned to look at the Dormouse, who hadn't budged an inch.

"Dorma," he said, "They're here! Quick, tell the Mad Hatter!"

The Dormouse said nothing, and remained still.

The Hare huffed, and stood up.

"Very well,_ I'll_ tell him!"

He ran closer to the house, and called out, looking up at an open window.

"Hatter! They're here, they're here!"

A new voice called down from the window, "They're here?!"

"Yes! They were THERE, but now they're HERE!"

"Well, quick, fetch the trampoline!"

Ace looked up at the Doctor curiously.

"Trampoline," Ace said, with a childish excitement.

The Doctor said nothing, simply glaring up at the window, as if the window was responsible for all the evils in Time.

Ace looked back, and watched as the Hare pulled a large trampoline out from behind the house, and set it carefully under the window.

"There we are! Ready when you are," exclaimed the Hare.

"Make the announcement!"

"Oh, right!" the Hare laughed, as he ran back to the table. He grabbed a teaspoon, and held it like a microphone. .Much to Ace's surprise, the teaspoon curiously did amplify his voice, much like a microphone.

"And now," the Hare intoned, "Ladies and gentlemen...and undecided...the Magnificently Mad Hatter will make his entrance!"

At that moment, the curtains of the window flew open. Balanced on the windowsill, Ace saw a man dressed almost entirely in black, including the crash helmet he wore on his head. The only splash of color found in this figure's attire was that of his marvelous scarlet coat.

"Stand back!" called the man, as he leapt from the window. He landed on the trampoline, bounced into the air, somersaulted twice in mid-flight, and landed with a large BANG in the center of the tea table, perfectly on his feet.

The man took off his helmet and swept out his arms. His wild red hair covered his face, although it was still clear as day that one of his eyes were blue, while the other was green.

"Ta-dah!" the Hatter sang out.

The Hare applauded and whistled in delight, while the Ace clapped politely. Neither the Doctor nor the Dormouse did anything.

"Um...couldn't you have just come out through the door?" Ace asked carefully.

The Hatter paused, as if to consider this.

"Hmm...yes, I suppose I could have," he answered. "But this seemed a little more spectacular!"

The Hatter then flipped the helmet in his gloved hands. As if by magic, the helmet had vanished, while in its place appeared a chalky blue top hat, with a dark blue band, and the famous "10/6" tag stuck in it. The Hatter placed the hat on his head, tapping the brim dramatically, as he walked across the table towards Ace and the Doctor, even as the March Hare returned to his seat.

"Won't you join us, m'dear?" the Hatter invited with a grin, holding out a hand charismatically.

Ace smirked.

"Thanks," she said, as the Hatter brought her over to a chair.

"May I take your coat," the Hatter asked.

"Sure, mate!"

"Yes, yes, tis the only civil thing. Right, Marchy," inquired the Hatter as he carefully removed the young girl's coat.

"Oh, yes! Very, very civil!" the Hare agreed, and took a drink of his tea long before any of their guests had taken a seat.

The Mad Hatter carefully took Ace's coat. He never once seemed to notice the Doctor, although the vigilant Time Lord kept his eyes on the Hatter at every waking moment. The Hatter then walked over to the Dormouse, hanging the coat over her head like she was a coat rack.

"That can't be too comfortable," Ace muttered.

"Oh, don't worry!" the Hatter said, shaking his head as he returned to his seat. "She's meditating at the moment, so I don't think she minds."

"Meditating?"

"Yes, of course!" the Hatter said, assuming his seat as he pouring himself a fresh cup of tea. "Back on her homeworld, our darling Dorma was one of the most practiced warriors in her day!"

"Why's she here then?"

"Don't know, don't care," shrugged the March Hare in reply, and the Hatter nodded in agreement. Both drank at the same time.

"Ahem!" coughed the Doctor.

Everyone—except the Dormouse—turned to face him expectantly. He smirked, and tipped his hat.

"May I sit down as well?" the Doctor said.

"No room! No room!" brayed the Hare and the Hatter.

"I thought there was plenty of room," the Doctor said with a shrug.

"He's right," Ace said, and gestured at the table. "It's set for more than three; there are at least nine empty chairs!"

The Hatter rolled his eyes.

"My dear girl," he said, "We never said there weren't any chairs! We said there was no room!"

"And there isn't!" the Hare put in, raising a finger sagely. "We are OUTSIDE. There are no rooms out here!"

"Naturally!" the Hatter said. He then sighed, stating "Very well, sir. You may sit down, if you wish."

"Thank you kindly," the Doctor said, and, hanging his hat and umbrella on the chair he chose. He sat down, never averting his eyes from the trio.

"Won't you have some tea?" the Hare suggested, holding a pot out, right in the Doctor's face.

The Doctor gently pushed the pot away.

"I think I'll pass, thank you."

The Hare shrugged, still smiling.

"Suit yourself!" he said brightly.

"What's your name, child?" the Hatter asked of Ace, as he added sugar—plenty of it—into his tea.

"Call me Ace," said the young lady.

"A lovely name! Would _you_ like some tea? I made it myself!"

"His specialty!" the Hare grinned, and giggled. "Get it? 'Specialty, special tea?'"

Ace ignored him.

"Yes, I'd like some, thank you."

"Very good," the Hatter said, nodding, and poured a cup. He held it out to her.

Then abruptly pulled it away again.

"Before I give this to you, do you like riddles?"

Ace blinked.

"Um...well, sometimes, I guess..."

"Why is a raven like a writing desk?" the Hatter challenged, standing in his seat and pointing as he asked.

"Beats me."

"Likewise!" the Hatter sighed dolefully, slumping back down in his seat, pouting. "I haven't the slightest idea!"

"Nor I," the Hare mumbled, taking another drink.

Ace smiled, and leaned towards the Doctor, who was sitting with his hand to his forehead, wearily.

"This is just how I imagined it in the book, Professor!" she whispered.

"Book?" the Hatter piped up, his cup halfway to his lips. "What book, may I ask?"

"Never mind," Ace said.

The Hatter shrugged, and took a drink.

"Ace," the Doctor whispered. "We really must be going."

"Aw, so soon?" the Hare asked, sitting a little straighter, ears flattened.

"Yes, I'm afraid so," the Doctor said, not looking at him. "My young friend and I have a rather pressing engagement."

"Oh, don't go yet!" the Hatter said, and held out a plate of bread and butter. "Here: have some of this!"

"It's the best butter!" the Hare said, nodding rapidly. "The very, very best! Just great when fixing watches, or making toast, or anything!"

"I'm sure it is," the Doctor said, "But we can't stay."

"Where are you headed?" the Hatter asked, casually.

"Card Castle. We have an appointment with the Queen of Hearts."

The Hatter and Hare fell silent and still. The Hare, inspired by his own ramble, had begun buttering a slice of bread, and the Hatter, once again, had stopped with his cup almost to his lips. Even the Dormouse seemed alerted, turning silently in her chair to face the Doctor.

"The Queen?" the Hare whispered.

"Quite."

The Hare and the Hatter exchanged a glance, and the Mad Hatter cleared his throat, putting down his teacup.

"Well," he said, "Wouldn't wish to delay such a regal issue...if you must go, feel free to."

"Thank you," the Doctor said, standing, and flipping his hat onto his head. "Good to see you again, Mr. Hatter."

The Hatter smiled, eyes glittering.

"The same to you...Time. A pity you can't stay forever."

"Yes. A pity."

There was a pause, both of them looking at each other.

"Come along, Ace," the Doctor said softly, breaking the silence, and grabbed his umbrella.

"Can't I have a sip, Professor?" she asked, holding a teacup in her hands.

_"Ace,"_ the Doctor hissed, urgently, and pulled her from the chair. The girl snatched her jacket from the Dormouse—who didn't seem to notice at all, having turned back to her meditation—and waved to the three in farewell.

"Thank you!" she said simply.

"Goodbye!" the Hare said, waving back.

The Hatter nodded and waved, but said nothing.

After the Doctor and Ace had gone, there was a brief moment of silence.

"...Hatter?"

"Hm?"

"They're on their way to Card Castle already!"

"I know, March."

"Well, what now?"

The Hatter smirked.

"Now," he responded, "we speed things up a little."

He stood up, and briskly marched back into the house.

"Time to make some more special tea!" he called to the Hare, who followed him inside, his furry lips peeled back in a manic grin.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter VII: Three Parties**

A figure with three red eyes held a wilted rose before his face. Its petals were black, having long since dried, with its stem dark and cracked. The emaciated object it held had thorns that were hard and thin, withered by age.

"Ah, Time...the roots of insanity are deeper than you can imagine. In this fair month, the petals of red stand out before the rest. Soon you shall be painted over, and that fair complexion shall be lost under the overwhelming red that is hate. She already knows, as does she. Or will know soon enough..."

The figure blew a cloud of reddish smoke over the plant, and it bloomed with light instantly. The creature hissed, as a thorn pricked one of its green-blue fingers.

Three eyes blinked dully at the tiny wound, as it stuck its finger in its mouth, and sucked away the violet-tinted blood drop.

"The quarrel ends today. And I fear what is to come…For wherever the arguers go…death follows. Such is the curse...of a Time Lord..."

**Meanwhile, at Card Castle...**

The Queen of Hearts purred like a pussycat, wetting her lips and allowing her eyes to close.

"Thank you, Knave, for the tea. Quite lovely...very nearly perfect."

"You are most welcome, Your Majesty," croaked the Knave of Hearts, bowing low.

The Queen nodded and took another sip, finishing the cup. She had claimed the first sip had been awful, but apparently the beverage had gotten better as she drank on.

"Tell me, darling Knave, have you brought Time here yet?" the Queen asked, as she calmly handed the tea tray to her Knave.

The Knave smirked for about a moment, but quickly let his smile vanish. The Queen seemed to have forgotten her earlier discussion with her husband.

"I implored the King to fetch him."

"Ah, good. It's about time that miserable, meddling, meat sack made himself useful around here."

"My sentiments exactly, Your Majesty," the Knave nodded.

"Wherever did you find him? Time, I mean."

"The Cards reported they had spotted him heading toward the River of Tears."

"WELL, WHY DIDN'T YOU GRAB HIM THEN?" the Queen snapped, standing up, hands clenched into claw-like shapes.

The Knave barely blinked an eyelash.

"The Cheshire Cat was with him."

The Queen blinked, with all fight leaving her immediately.

"The Cheshire Cat?" she whispered.

The Knave grunted in affirmation.

"A young lady, too," he added, absent-mindedly.

The Queen stared off to the side and slowly sat back down, shaking her head slightly.

"No worries; the Cat won't stay forever. And if they pass the party..."

She suddenly moaned, and put a hand to her head, panting softly.

"Ooh...Knave?"

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Get the painkillers; I have a truly monstrous headache..."

"Yes, Your Majesty," the Knave intoned, and with a short bow, hurriedly left the room.

Outside the castle walls, a teenage girl and a man with a question mark-handled umbrella approached. The latter spun his umbrella about like a show cane, with the other hand stuffed snuggly in his trouser pocket.

"Ah, Card Castle," the Doctor sang out, smiling easily. "Home of Queen Kardamyne."

"Professor, I don't suppose we just waltz over and knock on the door?"

"Of course not, Ace! We'll just _walk_ over."

The Doctor, so saying, approached the great, iron doors of the castle—as there was no drawbridge or a moat—and knocked upon the doors with his umbrella, tapping to the beat of a Venusian lullaby.

The door opened, and a strange creature stood there. It had a body like a man, but the eyes and scales of a fish, dressed in red livery and a white powdered wig,

He blinked at the two. Ace noticed a set of gills open up and swiftly close upon the creature's neck.

"You knocked?" the Footman said.

"Yes. I'm the Doctor, and this is Ace. Is this the residence of the Queen of Hearts?"

"Yes."

"And is she in?"

"Yes."

"Might we have an audience with her Majesty?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Well, why not?"

"Her Majesty has commanded that she not be bothered by any visitors or nuisances for the remainder of the afternoon."

The fish-faced Footman bit his scaly lips—his teeth resembled those of a piranha—and then leaned in to whisper. The Doctor obligingly leaned forward to listen.

"For the record, sir, I would gladly let you in, but I was lucky to survive Her Majesty's wrath earlier, and I would rather not test my time anymore today."

The Doctor arched an eyebrow, tilting his head in interest.

"What do you mean?"

"Her Majesty ordered me to be executed for serving her tea the wrong way."

"Then why are you out here and not under the guillotine the Drahvin Queen is so fond of?"

"Well...for some reason, she pardoned me."

The Doctor gaped.

"I beg, your pardon? " he asked quietly.

"It is a most uncommon happenstance, I know, but, recently, the Queen seems to be more…lenient. It's odd, sir, but no one's complaining...we're all just worried about when she'll start up again."

The Doctor turned away, glaring darkly.

"Oh, dear...I'm too late, already..."

"Professor?"

"Sir?"

"Mr. Footman?"

"Er...yes, sir?"

"Do you recall what you said earlier? About 'testing Time?'"

"Yes..."

The Doctor took on a stern expression and stood at full height. He looked up towards the Footman, staring right in his black, fishy eyes.

"You're testing him right now."

The Footman blinked, gulped, and nodded.

"I...I didn't know..."

"Of course."

"C-come with me then, m'lord! The Queen has been expecting you..."

"I'm sure she has," the Doctor said with a grin, as he tapped the brim of his hat. He then flipped his umbrella so it leaned against his shoulder. He entered, Ace following close behind...

The Footman let out a sigh as he shut the Castle doors...

"Why me?" he murmured, dolefully.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter VIII: **_**Noblesse Oblige**_

The Footman guided the Doctor and Ace down the main hall of Card Castle. Every brick and tile was colored either black or red, with the mortar golden in hue, holding the castle walls together. Along with ebony and crimson candles, stained glass windows of scarlet and royal blue illuminated the palace. The Footman took a turn, and brought them to a large, dark door. He opened it up, and gestured inside.

"The Guest Room."

"We don't plan on staying…"

"Not THAT kind of guest room, Ace," the Doctor whispered before she could continue. He then smiled at the Footman. "Thank you. We'll...wait."

"Indeed," the Footman said. He turned on his heel and stalked off, vanishing through a pink door at the other end of the hall.

The Doctor tilted his hat slightly on his head as they entered.

This room seemed to be made of nothing but pink brick, from floor to the ceiling. This tiny room and was lit only by a single, blue window.

Ace frowned, disgusted.

"Blimey. Who decorated this place, anyway?"

"Good question. Perhaps I'll ask," the Doctor said flatly, and sat with one leg crossed over the other on a nearby sofa. He patted the cushion beside him, and Ace, somewhat reluctantly—as the seat was as garishly pink as the rest of the room—sat down as well.

"Professor," she whispered, "What are we even doing here?"

"Ace, the Queen of Hearts is the most prrrevailing head in the Madhouse. Do you remember how she was described in the books?"

"'The Queen had only one way of settling all difficulties, great or small.'"

"'Off with their heads.' You know, you rrrecited that bit perfectly."

Ace said nothing.

"Ahem...anyway, knowing Kardamyne the way I do, she wouldn't have stopped her rrradical way of working without good rrreason. Either she's getting better, or, more likely, the Jabberwocky is approaching fast."

"That reminds me: what _is_ the Jabberwocky? Carroll said it was a monster, but..."

"Well, no, it's not 'a monster,' per se, but it is certainly 'monstrous-'"

A sudden sneeze interrupted them, and they both turned.

"Ah...I suppose we aren't alone," the Doctor murmered.

An utterly ugly woman, dressed in rose colored robes and a large headdress, sat opposite to them. The figure was covered in warts, with bushy red eyebrows set over two piggy little eyes, a pointed chin, and a snout-like nose. Beside her was a man holding a pepper grinder, dressed in a greasy chef's uniform, also covered in warts and with bushy red eyebrows, sitting sulkily. The woman seemed so focused on her absent minded knitting that she didn't even seem to notice the pair's entrance.

"Do excuse me," the Doctor chirped. "But how long have you been waiting?"

The woman and the cook looked up.

"Sir," said the offended ogress, "You will refer to me as 'Your Grace.' I am the Duchess Daemore of the Fromagian Grig."

"My apologies," said the Doctor, nodding politely, "How long have you been waiting, _Your Grace?"_

"Does it really matter?" snarled the Cook who sat beside her.

The Doctor shrugged, grinning.

"The Queen called us over for a game of croquet," said the Duchess, putting her knitting down. "Grimwag here," she added, nodding at her cook, "Is going to prepare a lovely Macra Bisque for Her Majesty!"

The Cook smiled proudly, revealing brown, dirty teeth. "The easy part is killin' the bloody thing. The hard part is cutting her down to size. "

"Mmm...a delightful dish," the Doctor agreed.

The Duchess tilted her head.

"Who are you, may I ask?"

"You may."

The Duchess blinked.

"Who are you?" she repeated, after a moment.

"I'm the Doctor. This is Ace," was the reply, as the Time Lord nodded towards his companion.

"Really," said the Duchess, flatly, her eyes trained on Ace.

"Yes," Ace said, wincing under the Duchess' gaze, firstly, because the Duchess was VERY ugly, and secondly, because she had seen the look in the hideous woman's eyes twice before in the Madhouse. She didn't like it at all.

"Would you happen to be human, my dear?" the Duchess crooned, smiling. Her teeth were cleaner than her Cook's, but were grossly enlarged and crooked. Her mouth began to salivate, never once averting her gaze from Ace.

"Yeah. And what are you?"

The Duchess did not answer, she leaned towards the Cook, smirking.

"Grimwag, I do believe this is who kitty dearest met in Tulgey Woods..."

Ace leaned towards the Doctor.

"Please tell me 'kitty dearest' isn't-"

"I'm almost certain it is, Ace."

"Well, well, well!" Grimwag smiled, revealing purplish gums. "A proper human, eh?"

"Quite. Born and raised on planet Earth," the Doctor affirmed, casually.

"Indeed?" the Duchess smiled. "How...interesting."

"Can't recall the taste, myself" the Cook mumbled, talking to himself. "Does it fall off the bone when grilled...? What is the best way to prepare one…perhaps fried, or roasted...? Baked in a mince pie, maybe..."

"Have we met?" the Doctor blurted out, glaring thoughtfully at the Cook. "Your culinary fixation is distinctly rrreminiscient of someone I knew."

The Cook raised an eyebrow at the Doctor.

"How long ago?"

"Oh, a lifetime ago, exactly. Or was it five? Ah, how delectable the weather was in Spain..."

"Delectable...yes, that's the word," the Cook mumbled, embracing the pepper grinder in his hands.

"How old are you, dear?" asked the Duchess, sweetly.

"What's it to you?"

The Duchess giggled.

"Clearly young...perhaps just ripe..." she crooned, and reached for Ace. The Duchess' grip felt a few PSIs short of snapping her arm like a twig.

"Oi, watch it, lady," shouted Ace.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, my pretty," apologized the Duchess, as she reached to gently brush the young girl's cheek. Ace pulled away from the horrid woman.

The door opened, and the Footman stood there.

"The Queen has not only allowed your presence, m'lord," he said to the Doctor. "She DEMANDS it."

"Excellent," the Doctor said, and grabbed Ace, the two hurriedly leaving the room.

"Nice to eat...er, meet you!" the Duchess called after them.

Ace groaned.

"Why does everything here want to eat me?" she grumbled.

"Taste is a matter of opinion," the Doctor said simply, not looking at her.

"Yeah, well, the next thing that even thinks about it will get blown to bits if my Nitro 9 has anything to say about it."

"Violence is never the answer, even in here. Now, unless you want to lose your head, please do be quiet. It's time to get some answers..."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter IX: Cats & Rabbits...**

Cheshire sighed softly, lounging in a tree not far away from the household of the Fromagian Grig. He sneezed, and, with a rare frown upon his face, took a handkerchief from his coat pocket. He wiped his nose as he said to himself, "That cook always DOES use too much pepper in his stew..."

Even so, the piglet stew had been very filling, giving a sensation not unlike a warm hand rubbing his belly. Right before he would bite it off, of course.

He smiled, pocketing the handkerchief, and lay back. Had his usual, humanoid form had a tail, it would have swayed gently beneath him. Instead, he was content to let one leg swing back and forth below him, within the dead space between the ground and his perch. Content as could be, the creature closed its eyes to take a little cat nap, as it were.

The sound of faint footsteps caught his ear, and the Cheshire Cat opened one eye.

He grinned lazily.

"Well, well, well," he purred. "Is this dessert I see before me?"

It was the White Rabbit. The little creature was trembling so hard, he didn't even BOTHER with his tie, fiddling with his watch between his paws, head bowed low, staring directly at the roots of the tree.

"G-good day, Mister Ch-Ch-Cheshire."

"Good day to you. And I know better than to think you'd just hop right up to me—practically straight down my throat –altogether willingly, so, tell me, my rabbit, what's on your mind?"

The Rabbit gulped.

"T-two things, sir..."

"Name them."

"First, and foremost...please, Your...Catty-ness, don't eat me..."

"Hm," Cheshire murmered, looking the White Rabbit up and down with cold yellow eyes. "I'm moved by your plea. I shall consider it."

The Katoseussian tilted his head slightly, thoughtfully. Then, after three seconds—exactly, as the Rabbit had been counting—he let out a quiet chuckle, and looked down again.

"There. Considered. But I make no promises."

The Rabbit let out a soft whimper, He still refused to look at the cat, but he swore he could FEEL its fierce gaze. He was walking on thin ice dealing with this madman, and he feared the moment when the ground would tear away before his unlucky rabbit feet.

"What's the second?" the Cheshire Cat continued, inquiring his prospective snack. The Cat casually removed his glove to look at his finely sharpened claws.

"W-well...well, it's a m-message."

"From whom?"

"T-Time."

Cheshire's eyes snapped back to the Rabbit.

"Time, you say?" he purred.

The Rabbit nodded rapidly.

Cheshire grinned a little wider.

"Interesting. Well, then, if it is about Time, please, feel free to recite the message. And make it snappy!"

"Y-yes, sir," the Rabbit said. Having cleared his throat before going on, he proceeded "Well, it goes as follows: it's all rather a blur, now, I'll admit, but I was returning from a tax visit back to Card Castle, when I bumped into a curious man – this was Time – and an equally curious girl, dressed in outlandish clothing, covered in outrageous decorations. Oh, and might I add, when I say "bumped into," I mean it quite literally. Anyway, I dusted myself off, and I stood up and tried to explain to them that I had urgent business to attend to, and requested they move...that girl had the audacity to suggest I step out of line! Can you believe it?! So, I told her-"

"Rabbit."

"Hm? O-Oh! Y-y-yes, sir?"

"I am losing interest, and regaining an appetite."

The Rabbit's eyes flattened back, and his ears bent down in fear.

"Oh, to be a herbivore, surrounded by so many bloodthirsty creatures and carnivores..." he whispered to himself. Then his eyes widened, and he looked up slightly—still refusing to look at the Cheshire Cat, himself. "D-did I just say that aloud?"

"You did."

The Rabbit groaned.

"Oh, why...?"

"Yes, yes, woe is you, I'm sure...actually, wait, no. Woe is someone else, a rather somber fellow...I gobbled him up two months ago. Maybe three. Sort of hard to tell around this place, really. Anyway, I'm getting off-track again...what did Time have to say?"

"Er...h-he was heading to Card Castle, I think, and he said to me, verbatim: 'You are going to find the Cheshire Cat. Tell him that Time has asked for his assistance at the Castle. He's bound to be hungry, even if he's eaten already, so make sure you tell him right away.'"

Cheshire chuckled, and licked his lips.

"Well, Time knows me well enough...wait a moment. _My_ assistance? Whatever for?"

"I...I do not know...h-he didn't s-say..."

"I see."

There was a pause. The Rabbit fidgeted.

"Um...M-Mr. Cheshire?"

"Hm?"

"If...if I may say so, I think it would be unwise t-to waste Time's time."

Cheshire let out a soft snort, and shrugged.

"All right, if you DO say so..."

The Grand Chz'zhur dropped from the tree. When he landed he was a tiger once more.

He bent down, and nodded to the Rabbit, who continued to ignore directly looking into his eyes.

"Hop on, bunny," he growled.

The Rabbit shuddered, shaking even harder than before.

"W-with all due respect, Y-Your Feline-ness, I would m-much rather go at my own pace.

The Cheshire Cat raised an eyebrow. It was, indeed, a strange sight to see a tiger raise its eyebrow in such a anthropomorphic manner.

"Why?"

The Rabbit didn't answer.

Cheshire smirked.

"Ah. Still scared?"

The Rabbit still gave no response...which was all the response Cheshire needed. He laughed.

"Oh, relax, little one! Believe me, I don't bite."

The Rabbit looked up. Just a little.

"N-no?"

Cheshire grinned, revealing each and every single one of his teeth.

"Oh, no," he crooned. "Not much, anyway..."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter X: Playing With the Queen of Hearts**

The Fish-Faced Footman bowed as he entered the throne room. At the other end of the short, domed hall of red and black stone—illuminated from behind by three red windows—was the Queen, who fanned herself with a similarly red and black paper fan.

"Ah, you. What is it," she said in a silky voice.

"The visitor that I informed Your Majesty about is waiting right outside the door for his audience with you."

"I see. Let him in," the Queen ordered, snapping the fan shut and tossing it to the floor. A water rat, dressed like a miniature maid, immediately picked it up and darted out of the court.

The Footman nodded in respect, and went to the door...

If there was a way to slam a door OPEN, the Doctor had found a way. He smiled and nodded at the Footman.

"Thanks, but no thanks," he chortled. "Don't mind me; I'll be more than happy to let myself in. Come along, Ace!" he added, talking over his shoulder. Then, he tossed his umbrella into the air, catching it with his other hand, as he marched into the room.. His companion followed behind him, with a hand on the strap of her backpack.

The Queen smirked, head held high, crimson eyes settling imperiously on the Doctor as he approached. The fingers of her right hand drummed thoughtfully on the armrest of her golden throne.

The Doctor stopped in the very center of the throne room, and bowed theatrically, sweeping his hat off his head as he did. He took no notice of the door behind him as it shut, with the Footman hurriedly leaving the area.

"Well, well. Queen Kardamyne," he intoned. "It's been a while."

"Indeed?" the Queen of Hearts said darkly, raising one eyebrow. "And might I ask who you may be, demanding an audience with me, wasting my precious time?"

"You mean, you don't know me? I am none other than Time, himself."

The Queen's eyes widened. She smiled, revealing perfect, pearly teeth.

"How nice," she crooned. "And here I thought my soldiers were going to have to fetch you, after all..."

The Doctor said nothing as he stood back up, replacing his hat upon his head.

Then the Queen noticed Ace. She frowned.

"What's your name, child?" she snapped, pointing at Ace.

"Ace."

The Queen snorted.

"Nonsense; all my Aces are elsewhere. Such fraudulent claims are to be punished. Off with her head!"

"Oh, I hardly think so, your highness," said the Doctor, taking a step forward, and gestured for Ace to stay where she was. "Not today, at any rate. Her head will be staying where it is."

The Queen glared, taking a deep breath.

"As you say, Time. I did not recognize you at first; it has been many years—yet none at all—since any of my subjects last saw you. We have all awaited your arrival quite...eagerly."

"I can imagine. And, judging from my means of arrival, I suppose you could not wait any longer."

The Queen raised an eyebrow again. It was the other side this time.

"'Means of arrival?' You did not come of your own free will?"

"Not this time. Rrrather, someone opened a time corridor with some rather nasty, yet effective, piece of temporrral technology, a hole in the fabric of the time vortex. And so we went down the Rrrabit Hole and through the Looking-Glass, so to speak."

The Queen let out a short huff.

"Indeed. How curious. I shall have them found and executed as swiftly as possible for their insolence towards a Time Lord-"

"Yes, well, I rrreally don't think that would be necessary, or rather even possible," the Doctor interrupted, "Seeing as how, unless I'm quite mistaken, you no longer hold any power."

There was a pause.

The Queen blinked.

"I beg your pardon, Time?" she asked, in a voice like aged honey.

"You heard me. You have no power. No control. None whatsoever."

"What a...preposterous notion," the Queen said slowly, standing. "Wherefore does this come from?"

"Interesting question. But I think the real question is, what is that strange, buzzing noise emanating from behind your throne?"

The Queen's already pale-painted face blanched.

"Wh-what?"

The Doctor smiled a little wider, and moved even closer.

When he was at the foot of the throne, the Queen held out a hand.

"STOP!"

The Doctor grinned, almost as wide as the Cheshire Cat.

"Have I pressed a button?"

The Queen said nothing, but just glowered at him, eyes blazing.

"No. No, I think not, actually...seeing as that button in question is..."

The Doctor lunged forward. The Queen tried to stop him by standing in the Time Lord's path, but his umbrella's tip landed on one of the rubies that studded her throne.

"...Right there!"

With a soft HUMMM, the throne's raised platform began to slide backwards. The Queen yelped, and tripped on her high-heeled shoes, falling to one side.

"The Queen of Hearts has fallen," the Doctor murmered. "How very fitting."

Then, without another word, he waved to Ace. He and the girl jumped down into the hole in the floor that the throne had revealed.

A large, strange looking machine, sat there in the space under the throne, placed just behind where the throne itself normally sat. This piece of alien machinery was covered in flashing blue lights, with a crooked antenna on top, buzzing and whirring like a giant gnat.

"Wicked..." Ace whispered.

"Indeed it is," said the Doctor. "So, this is how the Rabbit Hole was generated; a crude wormhole that was strong enough to create a localized temporal disturbance and ensnare the TARDIS in flight. Interesting..."

The Queen dropped down herself, and gaped at the machine.

"I...I don't understand," she whispered, as if awestruck.

"I think you do," said the Doctor. "You just can't."

The Queen glared at him.

"What deceitful trickery is this, Time?" the Queen of Hearts hissed, circling him like a vulture. "How can I be aware of a secret room, yet not know what is stored within it? Why would I be so eager to guard it, without even realizing its contents? How can I be of two minds in such a drastic way?"

The Doctor said nothing, but just stared at the Queen, coldly.

"Speak!" the Queen rapped, pointing with one long finger. "Or else I tear out your tongue and sever your blasted skull from the rest of you! Off with your head!"

"Don't be ridiculous," the Doctor said, very calmly. "You can't behead me. Besides, if you do, I'll quite likely grow a new one."

The Queen blinked.

"You...you can't do that..."

"Can't I? Can I? You don't even know anymore, do you? Just as you no longer know the workings of your own castle. Nay, the workings of the Madhouse Kingdom in which you claim to rrreign supreme!"

The Queen eyed him suspiciously, lowering her hand slowly.

"What are you saying, Time?"

"First and foremost, take a look at this," the Doctor said, pointing at the machine in front of them. "Only a person with an enormous and intimate knowledge of temporal physics could build such a device. Someone with a very capable hand in terms of inter-dimensional dimensional technology and temporal control could figure out how to intercept a TARDIS with just a few gears, springs, chrrronium-titanium plates, and a lovely, hand-made generator."

"Enough!"

"You are a Drahvin!" the Doctor snapped, speaking louder. His eyes grew wide as they glared at the Queen; he looked almost as mad as her. "Even the most scientifically skilled minds of your race, as I am well aware, could not even begin to conceive of how to put together such a machine, let alone build one. And an even bigger question that you have not considered, Your Majesty, must be taken under account as well!"

"And what is that?" the Queen snarled.

"Your Court, and its distinct masculinity."

There was a pause.

"Professor, what do you mean?"

"Think about it, Ace," the Doctor said, without looking at her, eyes always locked on the Queen, whose own eyes had suddenly glazed over, settling on the floor before her. "What do you recall from the book?"

"About her?" Ace asked, nodding towards the Queen. "Well, she had a husband, a goon called the Knave of Hearts, a pack of Card Guards, some lords, maybe one lady..."

"And what did I tell you about the Drahvins?"

"That they were ruled by the women, and...oh..."

"Exactly. Why would a Drahvin queen, even one as deprrraved as you, Kardamyne, hold court without the superior gender at your command? How can you even stand ruling over a land so utterly overrun by inferiors and incompetents such as the male species? That is what you have been taught, no? An idea so thoroughly rooted and ingrained in the minds of your species for countless generations to the point where it is practically instinctive. It makes you wonder just how someone managed to wipe even that cultural indoctrination from your mind."

The Queen's eyes settled on the Doctor again. She sneered.

"Silence, man."

"Not likely. I think it is YOU who ought to be silent, for once, and become aware of your surroundings. Everything I say is true, and you know it deep down somewhere. You have no power. You never did."

"No...no, no...lies! All lies! Off with your head!"

"Your mind is not your own."

"Off with your head!"

"You are nothing more than a puppet. The Queen of Fools is your only title!"

"QUIET!" the Queen shrieked, hissing like a wildcat. "OFF WITH YOUR HEAD! GUARDS, GUARDS! OFF WITH HIS HEAD!"

There was a pause. Slowly, the fight seemed to leave the Queen. She gazed around, confused.

"Guards? Guards! Imbeciles, where are you?!"

"They won't come to you."

The Queen took a step towards him.

"What have you done?" she whispered, dangerously.

"I have done nothing. You're so far gone that you can't even recognize what's happened. Those Rrraston Sentries would be here right now if they still were still programmed to obey your command."

The Queen took another step.

"I don't know what's going on."

"I know," said the Doctor, simply, flatly. "It's another sign of how lost you are. Well allow me to cut the strings: Like a perilous house of cards, your reign has been toppled."

"ENOUGH OF THIS! **OFF WITH YOUR HEAD, I SAY!**" the Queen roared, and suddenly pounced on the machine. A flood of sparks and a flash of flames broke off as she wrenched away some of the pieces...

"NO!" the Doctor shouted. "STOP!"

But the Queen of Hearts wouldn't listen. With a scream of both pain—from the burns that now covered her arms—and pure, boiling rage, she pried away a long piece of jagged-edged metal, and swung it with all her might at the Doctor.

"ACE! GET OUT OF THE PIT!" the Doctor roared, ducking the attack.

Ace and the Doctor hurriedly clambered out. The Queen climbed up after them, panting and growling in fury.

"Cut them...smash them...OFF WITH SOME HEADS!" she wailed, and took another swing. The Doctor and Ace dived to one side, as the makeshift blade got stuck in the mortar of the tiles. The Queen snarled, and released her grip, lunging at the Doctor, wrapping her hands around his neck. The Doctor gasped, the Queen falling after him, throwing him to the ground.

"OFF WITH IT! I'LL TEAR IT OFF!" she spat.

The Doctor gagged and spluttered, trying to pry the maddened monarch off him as she tightened her grip on his throat.

Then, a loud THUNK echoed out, and the Queen grunted in pain, her body falling limp as she entered a state of unconsciousness.

The Doctor pushed her aside, and scrambled to his feet. He looked to Ace, who held her baseball bat in both hands.

"You okay, Professor?"

"The answer to that one's obvious, Ace. Let's get out of here!" the Doctor snapped, and took off, sprinting towards the throne room door.

Suddenly, the doors burst open before the duo could make their exit. Revealed was whole hand of Cards, each one holding their blades at the ready, making any attempt of resistance most futile.

Ace and the Doctor stopped mid-run, trying to find a break in the Sentries' line-up, to no prevail.

"I think that's quite enough, Time," came a rough voice from behind them.

Both Ace and the Doctor turned, as the Knave of Hearts stepped out from behind the throne, smiling cruelly.

"I've been expecting your arrival," the Knave cackled.

"And I've been expecting your treachery," the Doctor sneered. "Whether you are stealing tarts, or usurping a throne, you just can't be trusted, can you, Jacoby Heart?"

The Knave grinned nastily.

"Insult me if you wish; Although, I must thank you for your help in dethroning the Queen," the Knave said, waving a dismissive hand towards the unconscious Kardamyne, "But now, as you shall see, the Age of the Jabberwocky summons forth a new ruler of Wonderland. Isn't that right, m'Lord?" the Knave added, calling out and passing his gaze beyond the Doctor.

Slowly, the Doctor and Ace turned back again, both gaping...

"No..."

"It can't be..."

The Hatter, Hare, and Dormouse came out from behind the sentries, the former two smirking coldly.

"Indeed," the Hatter said, smoothly. "Everything has gone precisely as planned...

_**Holy Hatracks!**_

_**The Mad Hatter? A TRAITOR?!**_

_**The Knave? NOW THE KING?!**_

_**It seems these authors have taken what might (or might not, we hope) be the most obvious twist imaginable!**_

_**But, now, the question of the century: what will happen to Ace and the Doctor?**_

_**The answer to this next time on "Doctor Who: Descent Into Madness!"**_

_**Same Van-Time! Same Van-Channel!**_

_**...**_

_Me:__ There. Happy now?_

_VS:__ Indeed! The Great & Powerful VanSkittles is quite pleased with this new outro._

_Me:__ Excellent. Because we're not keeping this one, either._

_VS:__ WHAT?! That's it: I'm adding a unicorn into the next part!_

_Me:__ NEVER!_

_VS:__ Oh, come on! There WAS a Unicorn in "Through the Looking-Glass..."_

_Me:__ It matters not! I refuse to include such Brony-ized things in this adventure!_

_VS:__ Oh, please?! It couldn't be any worse than Spock imitating Shatner in "Star Trek: Into Darkness..."_

_Me:__ Oh, get over it, you...you...you YOU!_

_VS:__ ...Was that a quote from "Alice: Madness Returns"?_

_Me:__ Well, unless I'm wrong, the line was deleted from the final project, so..._

_VS:__ Never mind._

_Me:__ Anywho, that's all for now, folks! "Spin ya later" with part three of "Doctor Who: Descent Into Madness!"Coming soon...very soon..._

_VS:__ ...Mustard..._

_Me:__ QUIET, YOU DUNDERHEAD!_


End file.
